Come Let Me Tell You
by Reese M
Summary: Come children and let me tell you a story. A story about a beautiful African princess. A wise Priestess. A Goddess.


***Disclaimer*** I do not own Storm nor am I making money from this. I just enjoy writing for my favorite X-Man.   
  
Come children and let me tell you a story. A story about a beautiful African princess. A wise Priestess. A Goddess.   
  
You see children our story begins a long time ago in an ancient city. A city of Pharaohs and Gods. It was in this city that a young girl with hair the color of the clouds and eyes the color of the ocean lived happily with her mother and her father. This girl who's very name meant beautiful, was no older then most of you are now, but the Great Goddess had a plan for this young one. She knew that someday this child would harness great power, so she put this small girl on a life's path that would prepare her for what lie ahead of her. A life's path full of heart ache, and trauma, and unbelievable obstacles. Notice children that this old woman did not say unbearable or unmovable obstacles, but we'll get to that later.   
  
Back in the times before any of you, or even I, were born this great city of which I speak was not the place of peace we know of today. No, back then Cairo was in turmoil. Or at least it was to a very young girl. For one night while she lie in her bed listening to the softly sung words of a lullaby her mother was singing, her world came crashing in around her. There was a loud boom, an explosion, a flash of light out side her tiny bedroom window. The house shook and creaked. The shrill noise it made hurt her small ears. Her mother quickly picked the girl up and they began to race for the door. She could hear her father's strong deep voice calling out for them as she buried her face into her mother's own cloud white hair.   
  
Then the house shook violently once more. The walls began to crack and the ceiling began to fall down. A piece of the plaster fell and hit her mother in the head. They both fell hard to the floor. As the house shook the winds outside began to blow harder and a cold wind passed though the cracks in the wall. The wind stung her small chubby cheeks. She curled up into her mother's arms as the house began to fall in on them. She hear her father's cry one last time as he came into the room with them, but then the wall fell on him. The child never heard her father's voice again.   
  
Days passed. The little girl was buried beneath the rumble that was once her home. The house she felt safe in, the house she shared with her parents, the house who's walls had heard them laugh as a family, the house that watched her play. The house who had taken her father the first night, and her mother a few days later. It would be those final whispers of love and hope from her mother as lie only a few feet away, dieing, that would forever remain in the young girl's mind. Her mother's whispered voice, and a fear she would not understand for many years.   
  
She was rescued only to become an orphan. A child with nothing and no one. A small girl left to fend for herself on the streets of Cairo. To survive. To survive, the happy out going carefree child, became a skilled thief. She stole to eat, she stole to drink, she stole to pay for a place to sleep, she stole to keep herself clothed, she stole for her master. A man who would teach her the skills she would need to live off the streets. Achmed el-Gibar taught the child to pick pockets and locks. She would become his greatest student. She would even in time surpass her master. An evil known as the Shadow King then began to use the girl as his own personal thief. He sent her to do things, take things, that she'd never dreamt of before. He used her. When she realized what was going on she left the Shadow King, but in doing so she'd made a very powerful enemy.   
  
It was during this time in her life that the little girl would also make the greatest of allies. For this is when she'd met a man who would forever change her life. A kind man. A man who in time would become a father to her. But again children, I get ahead of myself. The little girl was no longer a small child of five but a young girl of twelve. It was a hot day, just like every other day in the desert city. The girl was out in the crowds of the brazier picking pockets. She'd done well that day and had planned on only taking one more wallet. She had picked him out of the crowd. He had a kind face, he looked strong, he looked caring. He had no hair.   
  
He had known she was there. He could feel her. He knew what she was. Or rather what she would become. He could sense the power, strong power with in her. He had followed her after she's picked his pocket. He talked to her, got his wallet back, and awakened something in her that she had never felt before. He had left the girl standing alone that day in the brazier, but he never truly left her behind. He had formed a link with her because he knew he would see her again someday.   
  
The streets of Cairo began to close in on the girl as she became older. She felt trapped. Surrounded. She's always feared small places, but now it was the whole city that made her chest tight and her head pound. She needed to get out of the city, out of it's confines. She needed to listen to the urge deep with in herself. It was telling her to travel south. Alone and feeling free for the first time the girl found herself crossing Sahara Desert. She didn't know where she was going, but she knew the Goddess had a plan for her, and that she would be lead to where she needed to be. The journey was hard. She walked in the hot sun and sand for weeks. Stopping at watering holes to drink, sleeping where she could find shade. She ate off the land once her back pack was empty.   
  
As the young girl traveled she began to notice that when she was to hot, a cool breeze would pop up and cool her down. When her skin burned, clouds would appear to shade her. When she was parched and there was no water in site, a light rain would start. It wasn't until she got to where she was headed, until she finally reached her mother's homeland of Kenya that the girl discovered that it was her that was doing those odd things back in the desert.   
  
The weather was at her beckon call. The winds danced for her. The rain made music for her. Lightening made art for her in the night skies. The young girl, who was becoming a very beautiful young woman used this new gift to help the people of her mother's tribe and in return, they made her their Goddess.   
  
They worshiped her. She helped them. She would make it rain, make it sunny, stop the winds, defend them, protect them. She became one of them. She saved the life of a child. A boy. The child of a friend. He was born but he did not breathe. The young woman gave to the child her own breath.   
  
Her heart and her soul were content but they were not happy. This was not the end of her journey. Her happiness and life was not with her tribe. They were still out of her reach. Far off in a land, in a time, she was not yet at.  
  
The young woman's powers began to grow. She was becoming stronger. It was at this point, just when she though she would never be able to control them if they grew any more, that he came for her. The man from the brazier. The man who had been kind to her even after she'd stolen from him. He came to her village and told her of his dream. Told her that there were others like herself, that he was like her. He asked her to come back with him, back to the city of her birth and help him fight for his dream.   
  
The young woman was unsure of this dream, but she wasn't unsure of the dreamer. She had known him though her own dreams for years. He was always, had always, been with her. She agreed to go. She left her village, her people, her friends, the boy who called her mother for saving his life. She left them behind to seek out her destiny.   
  
The man taught her how to use her powers, how to protect herself, how to fight her enemies and how to work with her team. A team, the young girl had never been a part of a team before. A village of people yes, but that was nothing like this. This was different. It was hard at first. Most of them had been together for a long time. She was the new person, an outsider. But they took her in, into their home, their lives, their hearts. This is something she'd been missing. As the young woman grew into a strong, powerful, beautiful, loving woman; she finally realized why being part of this team, part of the man's dream meant so much to her. They had become her family. Something she hadn't had since her parents' death.   
  
The X-Men. That's what she and her team were called. The X-Men. A group of people just like herself, mutants. Just like you my dear ones. Just like me.. They were mutants who fought to protect other mutants, and humans, form the evil that would harm them. Evils like Magneto.. Like the friends of humanity. Like the Shadow King.. Yes he came back, but he made the mistake of hurting people she loved and the woman took care of him. It was her job after all..  
  
It was a job but also so much more, for it was as an X-Man that the woman would finally find peace. She would also find love. Love of a family, of friends. of a father, but also of a man. You see children it was as an X-Man that our heroine found her soul mate. He was the most unlikely to capture her heart but he did. They were friends, then lovers, then he asked her to be his wife. She became the mother of his children as well.   
  
It was at this point in her life. With her husband, her children, her friends, her family, that the woman saw that everything she'd lived though was meant to be. Each moment in her life had lead to those things being in her life. For this she was grateful to Goddess and asked her to forgive her for all the times she'd asked her if she knew what the hell she was doing.   
  
Who was this grand lady? Well she went by many names. Some called her Princess. Some called her a Priestess. Some even called her a Goddess. But to those who knew her, who loved her. She was the beautiful wind rider. She was the weather witch. She was called Storm. Her friends called her 'Ro. Other's used her full name. Ororo. Beauty. I called her Mother. 


End file.
